


Trembling Hands

by Highsmith (quimtessence)



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Non-Immortal (The Old Guard), Art, Artist Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Character Study, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, Kink Meme, Life Drawing Model Nicky | Nicolo di Genova, M/M, Modern Era, No Angst, No Smut, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:01:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27982734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quimtessence/pseuds/Highsmith
Summary: Bowls of fruit become stale relatively quickly, but the second month the course turns into a life drawing class. Joe doesn't quite know what he expects, but any sort of challenge is welcomed with proverbial open arms.That first Tuesday Joe is only half-listening, doesn't catch much that's being said at the front of the room, too absorbed by thoughts of the article which hasn't arrived yet and the chapter he's surely been over-editing. By the time he looks up, the model is already moving his body around, though Joe's eyes latch onto the curve of his nose foremost, the shape of his profile.Pears are all good and fine, but this he can do something with. Proverbial inspiration knocking.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 40
Kudos: 247





	Trembling Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this [this](https://theoldguardkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/5194.html?thread=1649738#cmt1649738) Kink Meme prompt. I hope OP likes!
> 
> Title from Explosions in the Sky.

It's an introductory course meant to fill two afternoons per week during his last semester. It gets him off campus, neatly.

Oddly enough, Joe thinks it might provide much-needed structure through a routine which, one month into the course, hasn't yet started feeling much like one, for which he is quietly thankful. His thesis is going well enough that he can appreciate the hours spent _not_ thinking about it and, thus, not falling into the trap of second-guessing his work for no good reason. Moreover, he finds he's enjoying fiddling with charcoal, never mind the mess. The scent of a fresh notebook—paper and the expanding space between pages. The commute into the city. He thinks he'll miss it once it's gone. Once he moves on.

Bowls of fruit become stale relatively quickly, but the second month the course turns into a life drawing class. Joe doesn't quite know what he expects, but any sort of challenge is welcomed with proverbial open arms.

That first Tuesday Joe is only half-listening, doesn't catch much that's being said at the front of the room, too absorbed by thoughts of the article which hasn't arrived yet and the chapter he's surely been over-editing. By the time he looks up, the model is already moving his body around, though Joe's eyes latch onto the curve of his nose foremost, the shape of his profile.

Pears are all good and fine, but this he can do something with. Proverbial inspiration knocking.

His first attempts are atrocious, but, once the warm-up is done and he's breezed through the complicated short poses, he takes his time that last hour. It's rough, but it's a start.

Once home, he valiantly tries to get his own face down on paper, the bathroom mirror his only aid. It goes about as well as he expected, but his wrist aches pleasantly by the end, and he can't seem to stop the corners of his mouth from lifting up in bone-deep satisfaction.

Thursday, Joe actually listens as he introduces himself again, then proceeds to hold a pomegranate in one hand, elbow bent. The circle around him has closed in slightly, and it's clear the warm-up pose is a longer one this time. Joe flips to the next clean page on his sketchbook and settles in, mentally telling himself, _Nicky Nicky Nicky_ so he'll remember it this time.

The half-hour comes and goes, and Joe is vaguely surprised at the ease with which more time yields more details. Imperfect, granted, but relaxing to fill in and worthwhile by the end. The half-hour is nearly the full hour, followed by short poses, complex and fascinating. Mind overwhelmed, Joe focuses on the details once more. Has built an entire person, of sorts, once their time is up.

He's not the last to leave, but he does linger in thought more than he should.

His commute back is silent, headphones tucked inside his jacket pocket.

For once, he goes out on Friday, dragged along for drinks. In the crowded campus bar, he thinks he spots a familiar profile, but he begs off after two glasses of cheap wine and doesn't think much about whom he may have seen across a dim room.

Tuesday again. Different lighting this time. Experimental, the tutor tells them. Joe's having trouble with the shadows from the get-go, overcompensating at every turn, every angle.

It's an unmitigated mess.

This time, when he doesn't hurry to take his leave, he's stopped by a hand at his elbow.

"All right?" Nicky asks.

Joe feels a little as if this should be his line, but he smiles instead. Nicky's robe is a very deep blue colour. "The learning curve is steep."

Frowning, Nicky says, "It's for fun." There's a lingering question hanging awkwardly between them until Joe shrugs wordlessly. His frustration is his own.

They don't leave together, and Joe over-thinks a proper reply the entire train ride back. Forgets it completely by the time he unlocks his door.

On Thursday, he intentionally remains behind, hands particularly blackened by too much charcoal, too many speed-sketches. He's convinced he should take his time more, but it felt good to run not walk for once.

It's only the two of them again.

"It's for fun, but I want to get it right," Joe says, picking up their previous dropped conversation.

Looking up from rearranging a chair he had to move aside earlier, Nicky says, "There is no right."

That might be so, but Joe is Joe. He shrugs. "I like to try."

And Nicky does nod, though he bites at his lip for a long moment.

It becomes habit. Joe lingers, they exchange a couple of words, casual, then leave on their own.

The last Thursday of the month, Nicky walks over determined. Joe hasn't even packed his bag yet. There are a few people still around, shuffling their feet, exchanging small talk.

"James comes on Tuesday." Joe is well-aware they'll switch to a new model. He nods. "You live on campus?" He nods again.

Nicky doesn't, but he stays behind on Friday from the library. His schedule is much busier than Joe's, but he lights up when Joe leads the way to the campus bar.

He stays the night on Joe's crappy couch, even though Joe offers him the narrow bed. He makes it up to him with pancakes he whips up in his small college kitchen, but he bought the good honey just last week, and, when offered, Nicky polishes off most of Joe's plate as well. Drinks down two cups of coffee in quick succession. Joe wants to smile broadly the entire time; doesn't, only because he's too busy talking Nicky's ear off about his thesis when Nicky's not doing the same about his own.

James is a good model, but Joe misses Nicky's collarbones, his intent eyes, the little frown lines between his brows. Nicky's week is busy, but Friday is right around the corner.

They stay in. They forget about the film they put on, but Joe's lips are sore as the credits roll. As first kisses go, he's not complaining. This time, Nicky joins him in the bed. They sleep in on Saturday. Neither has cause to complain.

**Author's Note:**

> G-RATED?!? WHO AM I?!? :D :D :D
> 
> If you enjoyed this bit of self-indulgence, please consider leaving a kudos or a comment, or even both! <3 <3 <3
> 
> Tumblr: [rhubarbdreams](https://rhubarbdreams.tumblr.com/)


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